Sunday, October 10, 2010

How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Bombers

A month ago, I bought an expensive pair of black tennis shoes at Lombardi Sports on the Polk Street side of Russian Hill. They had lots of arch support and could double as dress shoes for a week-long job that involved standing all day at the Oracle convention, and they saved my life.

With the purchase, I was given an invitation to a Fleet Week Block Party on the roof of the three-story store on Saturday afternoon.

The event was being sponsored by a shoe brand from Hawaii called Okulai...

...and they were providing free food and drink...

...and a ringside view of the U.S. Navy Blue Angels air show on the waterfront.

I have ranted about the Blue Angels on this site for years, decrying the waste and destruction they represent, environmental and spiritual (click here if you're interested), but it seemed time to investigate why so many people love them.

The crowd at Lombardi Sports was charming but a little odd in that nobody really knew each other.

We were surrounded by apartment building roof parties, some of them including sailors from the Fleet Week festivities.

It didn't take long to realize what was behind everybody's enthusiasm.

The loud, powerful death machinery is an aphrodisiac.

The sex vibes were so strong on the Lombardi Sports roof that it was actually funny.

Women seemed to be most excited by the air display, reminding me of pictures of the fairer sex sending their warriors off to battle.

I ran into my friend Beth Spotswood the next day, who confessed to loving the Blue Angels. I asked if it was all about sex and she gave me a look that translated as Duh. "They're hot," she explained.

The 45-minute air shows this weekend were not all that intrusive, though the afternoon-long rehearsals on Thursday and Friday were thoroughly obnoxious.

It's too bad the Love Parade was canceled this year by civic authorities. It was a nice spiritual counterweight to San Francisco's annual autumn worship of Thanatos in the guise of jet fighters.

5 comments:

Sexy and hot? Maybe when one only has to deal with them once annually. I grew up with the sights and sounds of San Diego's then-naval air station and, much more annoyingly, with the constant verbal harassment of recruits naval, marine, seal, and Top Gun (as one is wont to do if one is breathing and even vaguely post-pubescent). Blurg, I say, blurg. Good news about your shoes, though